A Second Chance
by Treluna
Summary: Emma Swan is pregnant. For the second time in her life. Though she is happy and in love and ready this time, as the months go by and her belly grows larger, old anxieties rear their heads. A story of family, love, and healing. Mature Content: Chapter 3 (Captain Swan coffee time)
1. Chapter 1

**A Second Chance**

Emma stared at the stick in her hand. Two pink lines. Pregnant. For the second time in her life.

As she sat in the bathroom of the house that was theirs; the house Killian had chosen, she couldn't help but think back to the last time she had seen two lines. Seventeen and sitting in a jail cell. She had been so scared. Her childhood had left her scarred and broken and she could barely keep herself alive. There was no way she'd be able to raise a child, inside prison or out. There was no job waiting for her when she got out, no life to go back to, no Neal.

As she sat in that cell, Emma found she didn't long for him like she thought she would. She did not even feel angry at Neal for leaving her there or angry at herself for falling for it. His whole act. She felt nothing at all. It seemed the two pink lines in her hand had pushed aside everything and everyone else.

For a moment, just one quiet moment staring at the bars and the walls, she tried to imagine it; imagine her life as a mother. She thought of baking cookies and PTA meetings. She thought of her foster parents; a parade of people each trying and failing to show her what home was. It just wasn't possible for her. She could not raise a kid.

She considered her other options.

Now, here again were those two pink lines.

The circumstances of this pregnancy could not have been more different. She was not in prison, for one thing. She was with a man she loved, a man who loved her in a way she never thought possible. Because of Henry, she was a mother now. If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have the life in Storybrooke she'd grown to cherish. Henry was the catalyst that brought her the happy ending for which she never dared to dream. Emma knew she should be happy. And she was.

But for how long? What about the next crisis? As the Sheriff, the Savior and a former Dark One, Emma rarely made it through a month without a life or death crisis; some new monster, some new strange curse. Could she really bring a child into that? Would it just be irresponsible of her to burden a tiny life with that much danger?

And what happens if, as was very likely, another villain and another crisis appeared some time in the next eight months? She couldn't very well chase down dark creatures and save the town, again, while she was pregnant.

There came a knock on the bathroom door that snapped her back to the present.

"Swan? You've been in there a long time. Are you alright?"

Emma felt a rush of love at the sound of his voice. Killian. She had Killian. Even now there were days where she could hardly believe any of this was real. There had been so many times, especially in the last few months, where she feared it would all be taken away from her. That he was taken from her. But all that was behind them now. Emma had a life here with Killian. And together they had created another life. This time she wasn't alone. This time she had her true love by her side.

"I'll be right out." Emma said.

She found him downstairs in the kitchen, taking leftovers out of the microwave. The smell of the pasta hit her nose and she bolted from the room, back to the refuge of the bathroom.

A few minutes later Emma got shakily to her feet. She brushed her teeth, took a deep breath and slowly made her way back out.

Killian was in their bedroom, waiting for her. "Do you still have that bug? It's been a week now, love. Shouldn't you go see a doctor?"

"I don't need a doctor." Emma said quietly.

"But if you're sick-" Killian protested

"I'm not sick." Killian looked confused. _God, he looked sexy even when he was confused,_ Emma thought.

Emma walked slowly to the bed and sat down beside him. She stared at the floor and ran her hands nervously up and down her thighs. He would be happy. She knew he would be happy but still she couldn't be sure. What if he didn't want this? What if he left? Emma felt like she might be sick again. She took a deep breath and spoke to the floor.

"I'm pregnant." The reality hit Emma once she had finally said the words aloud. She tried to process her own shock. She was going to have a baby. Again. Emma still couldn't look at him. She just didn't think her heart could handle seeing fear or dread in his eyes. Killian moved forward and placed a hand on her cheek, gently turning her face toward his. Reluctantly, she looked at him. His eyes held nothing but love and, if she wasn't mistaken, joy. He kissed her lips so lightly and enveloped her in his arms. Then he pulled back and looked into her eyes. There was joy radiating from every line of his face. He kissed her lips again, her cheeks, her forehead.

"Pregnant?" he asked quietly.

Emma nodded and he kissed her again.

"You're okay about this?" She asked.

Killian placed his hand on her cheek. "Emma, I'm far more than okay. I have never been so happy in all the centuries I've been alive."

Emma sighed in relief and finally let the tears come. She cried for the joy of being with him, the relief of knowing he was still there. She cried because this was how it was supposed to be. Full of love. Together. Not in a cold, lonely jail cell.

They agreed not to tell anyone. Not right away. They wanted to keep things just between the two of them.

At least that was the plan.

That night they went to her parents' place for dinner. Henry was over at Regina's for the evening. Emma greeted her mother at the door of their new house with a hug. Mary Margaret came out of the embrace and stared critically at her daughter. A knowing smile flashed on her face.

"Emma, I need some help upstairs. With Neal. Can you come up with me?" Mary Margaret practically pulled her up the stairs. Once they made it to her and David's bedroom, she closed the door quietly behind her so as not to wake up Neal, who was sleeping soundly in the next room and did not seem to need anything at all. Without any preamble she said, "You're pregnant."

"How... did you know?" Emma asked, completely flabbergasted.

"Because Emma, I know you. And I've been pregnant before, remember?"

"Yeah, so have I. Doesn't mean I'm a pregnant woman detector."

Mary Margaret waved away the comment with her hand, "It doesn't matter how I know these things. All that matters is that it's true." Though Emma was the one who was pregnant, Mary Margaret was glowing. "You're pregnant." and for the second time that afternoon, Emma was enfolded in a warm hug. The sheer outpour of love she had felt that day overwhelmed her. She started to cry again. Her mom handed her a tissue.

"It's fine." she told herself as well as her mother, "It was this way last time too. I just cry over everything."

Mary Margaret put a hand on her daughter's face. Her eyes were a bit bright as well. "How are you feeling?'

Emma took a shaky, steadying breath. "I'm okay. Just tired."

"Does Killian know?"

"Yeah, I just told him. I only found out this afternoon actually."

Her mom continued to beam at her. Eventually Emma laughed, "Okay Mom, we've got to got downstairs. Dad and Killian are bound to notice something soon."

They headed down for dinner. Thankfully, nothing that was being served that evening made her feel remotely ill. David gave them a quizzical look once they reentered the room. Mary Margaret couldn't stop smiling as she hugged her husband. David was watching her carefully. He was an intelligent man. He could tell that something was going on, he just didn't know what it was and neither his wife nor his daughter had anything to say on the matter.

The four of them sat down for dinner. Neal woke up twenty minutes into the meal and joined them at the table for the rest of the evening. Emma noticed Killian watching her more frequently than usual but, as they had agreed upon, he did not say anything. Emma knew her mother well enough to know that she would likely tell David everything the second they left but for the moment she too was keeping it to herself.

Emma looked around the table and realized that now David was the only person sitting there that didn't know.

"Dad, I have something to tell you." She could feel her mother watching her, but her eyes sought Killian. They had agreed not to tell anyone yet. She asked him with a look and, as always, he nodded and smiled at her.

David looked around at each of them in turn. "Does this have anything to do with why you and your mom disappeared upstairs?"

 _It's a good thing he is the sheriff_ , Emma thought wryly, _nothing gets past him._

"Yes." Emma said, feeling suddenly nervous. Though Killian and Mary Margaret already knew, she was still not quite used to saying the words.

David slowly put down his fork and placed his napkin on the table beside his plate. "Alright. What's going on?"

Emma took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant." She was surprised. Saying it was easier the second time.

"Emma, this is fantastic news!" David stood up at walked around the table. Emma stood up too and her father hugged her. She loved the feel of her dad's arms around her. Every time he hugged her it felt as if they were making up for lost time. She felt safe. Secure. She felt loved.

David let her go and clapped Killian on the shoulder. "This calls for a celebration!" He brought out a bottle of sparkling cider he had left over from a past celebration and toasted them. He asked the same questions Mary Margaret had asked and Emma obliged in answering as though it was the first time she had been asked.

They cleared the table and moved into the living room. The four of them talked happily through the evening and into the night. By ten 'o clock Mary Margaret couldn't keep herself from yawning, Neal was snoozing in her arms, and even Killian's eyes were looking heavier than usual. Emma knew it was time to leave.

They were led to the door with leftovers and embraces and when the front door closed behind Emma and Killian he put his arm around her shoulder. Hers were full of leftover containers. They slowly walked back to their house. Emma didn't realize just how tired she was until they started walking. She leaned her head on Killian's shoulder and found her eyes closing as well.

Ten minutes later they were at home in bed. Killian's hook was lying on the end table where it always lay in the evening. He gently drew Emma toward him and she rested her head on his arm. Killian kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. There were asleep in minutes.


	2. The First Trimester

**1 month**

Henry was the next to find out.

Emma had snapped at him one morning over something fairly insubstantial. He left his shoes in the hall and she stumbled over one. Emma yelled and Henry apologized, shock and confusion darkening his face. He could count the number of times his mother had yelled at him like that on one hand.

Later that day, Henry came to see Emma at the station for lunch. He brought her favorite: grilled cheese and a fresh batch of Granny's famous onion rings. Though he knew that he hadn't done anything wrong and that his mother wasn't truly mad at him, Henry could tell that something was off. She wasn't acting like herself. He wanted to do something to make Emma feel better. Onion rings seemed like a solid choice.

"Mom, I brought you something." Henry said by way of greeting. Emma looked up from her desk and smiled warmly at him. Her eyes looked oddly bright as she looked from her son to the bag in his hand.

"Henry, you're so sweet. You didn't have to bring me- onion rings?" Emma had just opened the bag and caught a whiff of fried onion. She dropped the bag on the desk and bolted for the bathroom. Henry stared after her, horrified. Something was definitely wrong.

Five minutes later, his mother re-entered the office, looking rather pale and shaky and smelling like mouthwash.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

Emma gave her son a weak smile. "I'm fine, Henry, really. I just have a stomach bug." She eyed the "Granny's" bag warily.

"Tell you what," she said, "Why don't you take those? I don't think I'll be able to eat them and I'd hate to see them go to waste." She passed him the bag and attempted a smile. Henry took it, still eyeing his mother.

"You sure you're alright?" He asked suspiciously.

Emma hugged him. "Of course, Henry. I'm fine. It's just a little bug. I'm sure it'll pass." In about eight months. Emma thought.

Looking fractionally more at ease, Henry left the station.

By the next week however, Henry was growing distinctly worried. Emma was still randomly lashing out at Henry, twice he came home from school and found her napping on the couch instead of working at the station and more than once he distinctly heard her getting sick again in the bathroom. However, Henry knew that if he asked his mother about her odd behavior he would get the same answer as before; "It's fine. Just a bug. I'm sure it'll pass."

Saturday night was movie night and Killian had insisted on watching "Back to the Future." Again. Emma laid on the couch and put her feet in Killian's lap. Henry was sitting on the floor in front of them, resting his back against the couch. Barely ten minutes into the movie, Emma fell asleep and Killian covered her with a blanket. Henry looked at the clock. 8:00pm. His mother never used to sleep this early.

"Killian, is there something going on with my mom?" Henry asked as Doc explained his latest inventions to Marty.

"Hmm? What's that?" Killian asked, his eyes still on the screen. Henry picked up the remote and paused the movie.

"Something's wrong with my mom." he said quietly, careful not to wake Emma up. Her slow, steady breathing told him that she was still fast asleep.

Killian looked away from Henry and scratched behind his ear. "I'm sure she's fine, lad." he muttered.

"No, she's not. Something's going on. Something's wrong with my mom and you're not telling me." He didn't mean to sound so accusatory, but he was too concerned for his mother to worry about offending Killian.

Killian smiled at Henry and looked over at Emma. Shaking her foot gently he said quietly, "Emma, love, wake up."

"Hmm?" Emma muttered sleepily.

"Wake up." Killian repeated gently. Emma slowly roused herself. She stretched and opened her eyes.

"What's going on? Is the movie over?" Emma asked.

Killian smiled at her, "No, love. We paused it."

"Okay." Emma said, slipping once more back to sleep. Killian gave her a more vigorous shake.

"Emma, we have to tell Henry." Killian said. Emma nodded at sat up slowly, yawning.

"I knew it." Henry felt a rush of anxiety. He had been right. "What's wrong? Did something happen when we were in the underworld?

"No! No, Henry it's nothing like that. Nothing's wrong." Emma was still smiling sleepily at Henry, which he found to be very unsettling. They were keeping a secret from him but neither Emma nor Killian seemed the least bit worried. They were smiling. Happy. Somehow, that made him even more nervous.

Emma looked at Killian again, took a deep breath and turned back to Henry. "I'm pregnant." she said.

This was not at all what he expected. "What?"

"I'm pregnant. You're going to have a little brother. Or sister." Emma continued to smile but her eyebrow furrowed slightly as she waited for him to react.

Henry's smile was slow but it grew to match his parents'.

"A baby? that's awesome!"

Henry stood up and hugged his mother, who began to cry.

"Mom? Why are you crying?" Henry asked, confused. "I thought you were happy."

"Oh Henry, I am. I am very happy. These are good tears." She said as Killian took her hand and wiped the tears off her face with the curve of his hook.

 **2 months**

It had been one hell of a week. A storm the likes of which they'd never seen in Storybrooke knocked out power lines all over town. High winds knocked trees storefronts, flipped cars on their sides and overall caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage. The Sheriff's department suspected magical involvement. Emma had never been so busy. David tried fruitlessly to send her home, to get her to rest. He tried to assure her that he had everything under control and she shouldn't overexert herself.

"Dad, I am perfectly capable of handling myself!" Emma practically yelled, as wind pounded against the station's windows.

"I never said you couldn't, Emma, but you are pregnant!"

"That doesn't mean I'm an invalid!" Emma continued to shout. "I can still do my job."

"I'm not saying you can't." David, for his part, was trying not to raise his voice. He had had plenty of experience with talking to hormonally charged women. "All I'm saying is that maybe you should take it easy."

Emma grabbed the keys to the cruiser and headed to the door. "Robin said the Merry men needed help breaking camp. If you need me, I'll be in the forest."

She was almost out the door when the room started to spin. Emma could feel her heart pounding in her ears and her vision began to grow fuzzy. She stopped walking and reached for the door frame as she felt her legs give out from under her. The last thing she remembered was the sound of running footsteps and a pair of strong arms catching her before she hit the ground.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Emma woke some time later to the sound of faint beeping, murmuring voices and the distant sounds of the persistent windstorm. She opened her eyes and her family came into focus. Killian was in a chair close to her head, his hand in hers. Her mother and father were sitting toward the foot of her bed and Henry was pacing by the door.

"Emma." David said at at once, getting out of his chair and standing by her bed. He sounded relieved. "You're okay."

Killian leaned over and kissed her forehead. "We were so worried."

"What happened?" Emma asked.

Killian and Snow looked at David, who said. "You fainted."

"I did?" Emma asked, sitting up a little straighter.

David nodded. "We were arguing. You tried to leave the station and fainted on your way out the door."

"But why-"

"Hello again, Ms. Swan." Dr. Whale came in, looking somewhat apprehensive. Not that she blamed him. Though it had been a few months since they had returned from the underworld, she could tell he hadn't yet forgotten the way she threw him into the wall the last time she was at the hospital. He checked the monitors before speaking again.

"Everything here seems to be fine. You and the baby are both in good health."

Relieved, Emma smiled and nodded. "Thank you, doctor." She said sincerely. He caught her eye and she smiled, trying to tell him that she too had not forgotten that day. Dr. Whale nodded and his stance relaxed a little.

"How had you been feeling earlier today, Emma? Did you notice any dizziness, weakness in your limbs or anything else strange?"

Emma considered his question. "No," she said, shaking her head.

"What had you eaten that day?"

Emma thought for a moment and then the realization hit her. "I didn't eat anything today."

Killian's eyes flashed anxiously, almost angrily as he tightened his grip on her hands. From her seat, Snow said "Emma! What do you mean, you didn't eat today?" David got up and began to pace just as Henry had done earlier.

Emma looked around at her family, abashed. "I was called in to the station but I rushed out of the house without grabbing anything and I guess I was so busy I forgot to eat lunch."

"Emma, you have to eat." Her mother admonished. "It's not healthy for the baby."

"I know." Emma said. Her mother looked like she wanted to say something else, but David cleared his throat. He had stopped pacing and looked at Emma. She had never seen him looking so stern in her life.

"You are not to go out in the field anymore." His voice was low, slightly dangerous. Full of authority. Emma's eyes grew wide.

"I don't think-" she began.

"This is not a discussion." David said. "I'm bumping you down to part time. You are to come into the station weekday afternoons. You will answer the phones and file paperwork."

"Dad you can't-"

"Watch me." He said, stony faced. He stood staring at her, arms folded tight. When he spoke again, his voice had softened, "For too long, you have been running around taking care of everyone else. That stops now."

"But-" Emma began.

"Emma, please. I am your father. Let me take care of you."

Emma stared at her father for a full five seconds before she sighed and nodded. "Okay." her father walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. Emma let a tear fall on his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.

 **3 months**

It started small. She was walking toward the front door and absentmindedly waved a hand to open it. She stopped right before she ran into the still closed door, stepped back and reached for the doorknob.

A few days later Emma was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. She waved her hand over her cocoa in an attempt to stir the cinnamon stick. The mug exploded. Emma yelled and jumped back as a puddle of hot cocoa spread all over the table, soaked the newspaper and dripped onto the floor. Still shaken up, Emma brought out a dish cloth and began cleaning it up.

It only got worse. Any little thing she tried to do ended up going disastrously wrong. Each time her magic had backfired on her, it only made her remember the last time her magic had gotten out of her control, during the Snow Queen's reign of terror. She couldn't risk that happening again. Emma stopped using her powers altogether but she couldn't shake her anxiety.

What if it was like last time? What if something went disastrously wrong? Her anxiety about her malfunctioning magic gave way to anxiety about the newest addition to their expansive family. What if something happened to her child? After all, the fact remained that it was dangerous to have a baby in Storybrooke. What if she wasn't a good mom? Yes, she knew she was a good mother to Henry but that was different. She had no clue how to raise an infant. She'd helped with her baby brother, sure, but even that didn't seem to be enough.

Emma couldn't settle. Her mind and her heart would race until she just couldn't sit still anymore. She tried everything she could to relax. She took a hot shower, a long walk, another cup of cocoa (and stirred the cinnamon by hand) but nothing worked. Emma couldn't remember the last time she felt peace. The last time she felt quiet.

And then the idea occurred to her.

Emma was resistant at first. What would her family say if they saw her? What would Killian say? She wouldn't be making them for magical purposes, even if her magic was behaving. She wouldn't do anything with them, she just needed to do something with her hands.

While Killian was out, Emma gathered her supplies. Then she went out back to the garage, closed the door firmly behind her, sat down and pulled out the small branches. She whittled and bent a branch into a circle and secured it. Then she brought out the twine…

Something miraculous happened. Her mind grew quiet. Her anxiety vanished. She didn't worry about her pregnancy, her family, or other possibly impending doom. She thought only about what her hands were doing. She focused solely on threading the twine back and forth.

Two hours later the dreamcatcher was complete. Seeing it gave her an odd sensation. Emma didn't imbue it with any magic. It could not pull memories from anyone in her life. In essence, it was a useless artifact. However the action of making it, of doing something with her hands, had brought her peace once again.

For two weeks Emma sneaked out to the garage for hours at a time, clearing her mind and creating dreamcatcher after dreamcatcher. Until one day.

Killian had come home early from the docks. He walked through the house, calling for Emma but he couldn't find her anywhere. That's when he looked out the kitchen window and noticed the door to the garage was open. He hadn't intended to sneak up on her but Emma was so engrossed in her task that she didn't hear her love walking across the lawn. The door opened, and Emma looked around. A thrill of fear and guilt tore through her heart at the sight of Killian standing there, looking completely stunned. She dropped her tools and walked toward Killian, who was regarding her with a mixture of suspicion and outrage.

"Killian-" Emma began, unsure of exactly what to say.

"What's all this?" He asked. Emma saw her own fear mirrored in his voice.

"It's not what it looks like." Emma said at once.

"It looks like you're making dreamcatchers." Killian said as though he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, I am, but it's not like-"

He stepped away from her. "You're not a Dark One again, are you?"

"Of course not!" Emma nearly shouted. Emma put a hand on his arm. Killian flinched but did not pull away. "I'm sorry, I know how this looks but I swear I am not pulling any memories from anyone. I'm not using magic. I was upset and I… I just needed to do something with my hands."

Killian continued to look at her with suspicion for a few more seconds before his face softened and he placed his hand on her arm. "Aye, love, I understand. It's just… I don't like dreamcatchers."

"I know. I really know. That's why I hid them. I needed to do something with my hands and I didn't know what else to do but I know how upsetting they are for you."

"Aye." Killian said, still eying them warily. Then he took a deep breath and pulled her closer. "Well love, if you needed to do something with your hands I can think of a few other options."

His voice was playful, but Emma could still see apprehension behind his eyes and she knew why. She didn't want to worry him but what she said was the truth. Somehow, working with her hands, twisting and pulling the twine had helped to clear her mind. She had no desire to use Dark Magic ever again, she just needed to keep her hands busy.

Emma smiled reassuringly at Killian and kissed him. The kiss became more intense. Emma paused long enough to catch her breath and say, "Why don't you head in. I'll clean this up and meet you upstairs." They exchanged another look before Killian squeezed her hand and turned, closing the garage door behind him. Emma sighed and packed all of the supplies in a box with a certain degree of apprehension. She could feel her anxiety returning already.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Two days later, Emma was once again at the station. As she had promised David, she stayed behind the desk answering phones and filing paperwork or just staring at the blank computer screen. She desperately needed a distraction. She thought longingly of making more dreamcatchers. Her hands were growing more restless by the day.

She kept remembering her first pregnancy. The cold waiting rooms with the apathetic prison doctors who halfheartedly gave her books or pamphlets and no real help. Over the last few months of this pregnancy, Mary Margaret had given her more than enough information. Her mother kept up an almost constant stream of text questions and sent e-mails with links to advice columns, lists of tips and tricks for morning sickness and every other horror that came with pregnancy. Truth be told, Emma hadn't so much as opened an email from her mother in weeks. It was too overwhelming and these days Emma didn't have the strength or energy to attempt to dissuade her.

She was pulled from her anxious musings by a knock on the open door. Emma turned and saw Ruby standing in the doorway, a bag from Granny's in her hands.

"I brought you your favorite, at least lately; tuna and peanut butter sandwich and… ugh… split pea soup." she said with a grimace.

Emma smiled at Ruby's look of plain disgust. She had to admit, there was something very satisfying about the horrified and disgusted looks on people's faces whenever she ordered food these days.

"Thanks, Ruby." Emma took the bag and handed her some money. Ruby looked closer at Emma.

"You okay?" She asked,

"Yeah," Emma knew Ruby wasn't fooled. She didn't even convince herself. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Uh-uh." Ruby said flatly, "not buying it."

Sweeping back her long brown hair, she pulled a chair toward the desk and sat down on the edge, leaning her body forward. "What's going on?"

Emma teetered for a moment. She and Ruby weren't exactly close. They got along really well, but they'd never really had an in depth conversation about anything. However, Emma wasn't sure this was something she wanted to discuss with Killian or her mother.

"I'm just… I guess, I'm just nervous."

Ruby said nothing. With a gentle smile, she nodded and kept her eyes on Emma, waiting for her to continue. Emma did. "I love Henry. I am so glad I had him. Now. But back then, I was just some scared, lost teenager and I didn't want… a baby. I wasn't ready for it. I didn't want to be a mom. And now, I mean I guess I'm ready? Things are so different. I'm with Killian and I'm happy to have a… kid with him but I just…" Emma let out a long sigh, "I have no idea what I'm doing! I've never even been a mother before. Not really."

"You're a great mother!" Ruby interjected at once.

"But I wasn't a mother for the first ten years of Henry's life. I don't know how to raise an infant. What if I screw it up? Or what if a monster attacks or someone takes the baby? It's not exactly safe to have a kid in Storybrooke. Especially not when you're the Savior and the Sheriff and... what am I even doing?"

Emma became suddenly aware that she was wringing her hands. Ruby noticed as well and moved her chair forward. She reached out and placed a hand over Emma's hands.

"You are going to be fine." Ruby said in a soothing voice. "You can do this. You are a wonderful mother to Henry and you have been a fantastic big sister to Neal. You know how to take care of a baby."

Emma nodded but her brow was still furrowed.

"I know that you're scared, and you have every right to be, but you're not alone in this."

"I know." Emma sighed, though she still looked concerned, "I have Killian, and I love him."

"Yes, but that's not all you have." Ruby let go of Emma's hand and pushed her chair back slightly. "You have your parents, Henry, Regina and Robin. And you have me." Ruby smiled at her.

Emma let out a shaky breath. "I know. I do. Thank you. Thank you for listening to my crazy ramblings."

"You're not crazy. And you're not rambling." Ruby said firmly. She looked once more at Emma's hands, which had started fidgeting again. "Have you thought about picking up a hobby? Something to keep your hands busy?" she asked.

Emma grimaced. "Well, I had started making dreamcatchers again. Not with magic!" she added quickly, "Just, like you said, to keep my hands busy, but it upset Killian."

Ruby hummed understandingly. "Yeah, I can see why he wouldn't like that. But there are other options. Have you thought about crocheting?"

At this, Emma actually laughed. "Isn't that usually for little old ladies?"

"Well, I don't know about that," Ruby said playfully, "Granny crochets and she isn't exactly an old biddy, is she?"

This stopped Emma short. Ruby sighed and stood up. "I have to get back to the diner. Come by Granny's this afternoon and she'll have some supplies ready for you." Emma sighed again and nodded.

"You're going to be fine Emma," Ruby said with her hand on the door, "You're capable of a lot more than you think you are. This kid is lucky to have you for a mom."

Emma blinked rapidly and nodded. "Thank you, Ruby." she said in a thick voice.


	3. Chapter 3

**4 months**

Emma Swan is going to explode. Every time her pirate touches her; a casual brush as he passes her in the hall, a hand on her back as he reaches above her to take down a cup from the top shelf, a sweet kiss on her cheek as he heads out to the docks, every little touch sends a thrill of desire through her until she can't take it anymore.

He's halfway to the door when she catches his hand and pulls him back, her mouth on his and her body pressed against him. He responds in kind and they are completely lost in one another before he has to come up for air.

He's panting, at a complete loss for words. "What was that for?" He asks her, once he can speak again.

Emma looks at him with a rather mischievous glint in her eye. A glint he knows all too well. He raises one eyebrow and smiles as she leads him away from the door.

"Are you sure you have to go to the dock? Right at this moment?" She asks playfully, drawing him closer to her again, her lips hovering an inch from his.

Killian is lost. He shakes his head, slightly dazed as she kisses him again. They make their way to the bedroom haltingly, stumbling, both too wrapped in one another to notice where they are. Killian only knows they shut their bedroom door because Emma has him pressed against it, her hands working at the hem of his shirt. She lifts it over his head and trails a line of kisses down his neck. He reciprocates and her shirt joins his on the floor. The feel of Killian's bare chest against her own sends waves of desire radiating through her. She grips him still more firmly and kisses him, but his mouth starts to wander.

The feel of his lips on her neck draws a low moan out from her. She finds his mouth again and kisses him more fiercely, more urgently than before. Blindly, they back up to the bed and collapse on top of it, Killian careful to fall beside her. Later, he'll tell her it was so that he didn't hurt the baby. She'll laugh and kiss him and marvel at the man he is.

Her body is on fire as he slips a hand beneath the soft cotton waistband of her jeans. Killian slowly reaches his hand down and finds her center. Emma closes her eyes and bows her head, lost in the feeling of him. He draws his hand back slightly as she shifts out of her jeans, kicking them carelessly aside. Killian catches her lips as he slips two fingers inside of her. Emma gasps and reaches her peak quickly. She grips Killian's arm as her walls flutter around him. She opens her eyes and he kisses her soundly. Then she reaches forward and hastily unfastens the button on his jeans. He quickly strips them off and flings them to the floor. Emma gently pushes his shoulder back so that he's lying once more on the bed.

She climbs on top of him and he runs his hand over every inch of her. His calloused fingers caress her chest and she moans again, leaning forward to capture his lips. She positions herself above him and sighs as he enters her.

There had been times before when they had moved slowly, taking their time, savoring one another. This was not one of those times. Her breathing comes more quickly as she rocks her hips faster and soon she falls over the edge again. Without realizing it, she has stopped, her head bowed close to his chest, lost in the wave of warmth radiating from her very core. When she comes back to herself, Killian gently pulls her toward him and meets her lips with his own.

They lose track of everything as they rock together. All they know is the feeling of her lips on his and his hand gripping her hip. She falls over the edge and this time he's not far behind her. She cries out and he gasps and they rock slowly until the sensations subside. Then Killian lays back on the bed and Emma gently disentangles herself, settling beside him. They lay in silence as the minutes tick by, their breath slowly returning to normal and he wraps his hand around hers.

"Not that I'm complaining love," he says after a while, as her head rests on his chest, "but where did that come from?"

She laughs. "I don't know. There's just something about you lately that's driving me wild." She rakes her hands through his chest hair, her leg outstretched over him. It's not long before she begins kissing him again.

"Emma Swan, in all our time together, I've never known you to be so insatiable." He murmurs against her lips.

Emma just smiles playfully in response and climbs on top of him again. Killian lays his hand on her hip.

"I hate to disappoint, but I'm not sure I can go again so soon, love. A man needs his rest after lavishing the one he loves."

Emma moves back to his side, trying to ignore the heat building once more inside of her.

In an instant, Killian is on top of her, pressing a firm kiss to her lips.

"However, that doesn't mean I leave you wanting," he said as his hand travels low over her belly. Emma's gasp is cut off by another kiss.

 **5 months**

"You can't be serious." Emma crossed her arms above her rapidly growing belly and raised her eyebrows at her mother. "A baby shower?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes!" Snow insisted. Emma grimaced. "Well, what's so wrong about wanting to throw my daughter a baby shower?"

"No offense, Mom, but that's just really not my thing."

Emma hated the downcast look on her mother's face but she just couldn't take the thought of all those women standing around awkwardly, playing bizarre games, asking her overly personal questions and touching her stomach without asking.

After she left her parent's house, Emma came home and found Killian watching TV on the couch with his feet propped up on the table in front of him.

"Hello, love." He said.

Emma bent down and kissed him. Killian moved away from her slightly when she sat down and lifted her feet onto his lap. This had become his routine. As soon as she came home and sat down, he began to rub her feet. Emma smiled and sighed.

"How was dinner?" He asked.

Emma grimaced again. "My mother wants to throw me a baby shower."

"That's kind of her." Killian said.

Emma pulled a face. "Yeah, but a baby shower? People standing around, asking me all sorts of questions, giving me gifts I don't want or need or have the faintest idea what to do with? Not my idea of fun."

"But your mother wants to have this party for you?" Killian asked.

"Yes."

He was quiet for a minute. Emma could tell he was working through something because he had stopped rubbing her feet. She didn't complain. She liked the expression on his face whenever he was lost in thought. Eventually he came out of his reverie and resumed the foot rub. He smirked at Emma and turned away quickly.

"What?" Emma asked, returning the smirk.

Killian considered her a moment before answering. "I think you should let her throw you this, what did you call it, baby shower?"

Emma sat up straighter. "Really? Why?"

"Because it's important to her."

"I really don't think I can do it…"

Killian laughed. "Love, you have faced more villains than anyone I've met in my three hundred years. You dealt with hunger, cruelty, even prison when you were still a child! You fought the darkness, you faced the underworld and Hades himself to bring me back to life. Do you honestly believe you couldn't handle an afternoon of inane conversation and a few party games?"

This brought her up short. Emma considered it. "Okay…" Emma said slowly, dreading it already. "Okay. I guess we're having a baby shower."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Her parents' loft was covered in pink and blue streamers. Snow had baked a cake and the breakfast bar was covered with a wide variety of refreshments. Although her mother was delighted when Emma agreed, it wasn't without a few conditions.

"No presents." Emma said firmly. "And no baby games."

Snow looked like she was going to argue for a minute, but then she smiled and hugged her. "Thank you, Emma." she said in her daughter's ear.

All in all, it wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting. Snow put on a playlist of music Emma actually liked, all her family and friends were there and only six people touched her stomach without asking. It was a good party, but Emma found herself growing anxious again with all the attention. Thankfully, she remembered her crochet hook. Granny had showed her the basics and Emma was definitely getting the hang of it, but she couldn't quite achieve any of the complicated patterns yet. She was currently trying and failing to knit a pair of baby booties. At first the idea of knitting something for the baby only increased her anxiety. It was one of those moments that made her pregnancy and the baby itself far more real than she felt she was ready to handle just yet. In the end however, Emma figured if she was going to invest time and energy in this task, she might as well make something useful.

She was sitting on a stool, struggling with stitches, when Granny came and sat next to her. Emma looked down at the bag in the older woman's hand.

"I said no presents." Emma said dryly, smirking at Granny.

"And since when have I ever done as I'm told?" Granny retorted with a smile.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. Granny looked across the room at Snow, who was chatting happily with Belle and Leroy.

"Did I ever tell you about the day your mother told me she was pregnant with you?" Granny asked her. Emma shook her head. Granny's smile became reminiscent. "We'd just gotten back from an early morning hunt. I looked at her face shining in the morning sun and I just knew. She had this happiness, this glow, I guess they call it. I'd seen many women with that glow before. But I said nothing to her yet. I wasn't sure if she knew herself."

"Anyway, we were walking back to the castle and she just stopped and took my arm. 'Granny,' she said, 'I think I'm pregnant.' 'Oh, I know you are, girl,' I said. And that was it."

Emma raised her eyebrows incredulously. It seemed strange that her mother would leave the conversation hanging like that. The Snow White she knew was anything but short winded.

Granny chuckled. "We've always had an understanding, Snow and me. We don't always say much. We don't need to. Just get straight to the point and leave it at that."

Emma smiled and nodded. Granny picked up Emma's baby blanket from a nearby table. Snow had brought it out for sentimental purposes.

"I starting making this that same day." She said with a chuckle. "Embroidered your name on it well before you were born. There was no way to tell that you were a girl back then, of course. No ultrasounds in the Enchanted Forest. But your mother just knew. She knew you were going to be a girl."

Emma gaped at her. "You… Made my blanket?"

Granny looked sharply at her, but there was laughter in her eyes. "Of course I did! See the stitch work? Think anyone else but me could make something like this?"

Emma took her blanket when Granny held it out. She examined it more closely than she had in years. Now that she understood the basic construction of the thing, Emma could see the care and time that went into it.

"Thank you." She said quietly. Granny smiled and set down the bag she had been carrying on the table beside Emma.

"Every child needs a blanket." She said, giving Emma's arms a squeeze and winking at her, before migrating over to where Snow and the others were standing.

Emma set down her blanket and picked up the bag. She took out the tissue paper on top and peered at the contents beneath. With a small gasp, Emma reached in and pulled out two large balls of soft pastel baby yarn. Beside that was a beautiful, hand carved wooden crochet hook that looked older than she was. At the very bottom was a note. She recognized Granny's handwriting. But this was no lunch order.

"Chain 42 stitches

double crochet the fourth hook..."

 **6 months**

Emma pulled the bug into a parking spot, set the break and killed the engine. Then she sat staring out the window at the front doors of the hospital. Killian took her hand and she looked over at him.

"Are you alright, love?"

Emma could only nod. She didn't know why she was nervous. It's not like this was her first ultrasound.

She had brought Killian to their first one, right around the eight week mark. Killian had never seen an ultrasound before. He vaguely remembered the sonogram picture Robin Hood had shown him months ago, but to him that was just a blurry black-and-white photo. It was hard to discern anything among the dots and smudges in the photograph.

The technician had squirted that blue goo on Emma's exposed belly and rubbed the transducer back and forth. When the monitor came on, Emma turned her head away, toward Killian. He could see the fear and anxiety in her furrowed brow and her tightly closed eyes. A single tear fell from the corner of one eye and her lip trembled.

"Excuse me, could we have a minute please?" Killian asked at once. The technician looked at Emma in surprise and nodded. She removed the transducer from Emma's stomach, switched off the monitor and left the room as Emma stifled a sob.

"Emma, love, what's wrong?" Killian asked her gently, stroking her hair, his heart breaking.

It took Emma a few minutes to sit up and open her eyes. The blue gel was rubbing off on her clothes, but neither of them noticed or cared.

"It's just… I remember. Last time, with Henry." She sobbed quietly for another minute. Killian had his arms around her as tightly as he could. Emma took a deep breath and continued. "I didn't want an ultrasound. I didn't want to hear him or see him. I didn't want any of it to be real. They said they had to do it to make sure it- he- was okay. I didn't want to hear him but I did. I heard his heartbeat. He was a real, live person with a beating heart and I was so scared. And I… I didn't want him." Emma sobbed harder into Killian's shoulder.

Killian felt helpless. There was nothing he could do but hold her and hand her a tissue. He wanted to do something, to dry her tears and hear her laugh again but instead he just held her and waited for her to continue.

"I know I was young and I had no idea what I was doing but what kind of person hears their baby's heartbeat and doesn't feel anything?" Emma's voice was constricted. It was another minute before she could continue. "I didn't feel love or joy or excitement. I was just scared."

"Emma, love, you didn't do anything wrong. You had every right to be scared! You were facing a huge life altering decision and you were doing it alone." Killian looked at the blank monitor. "You can't control how you feel. I think we're proof of that." He added, raising an eyebrow at her. Emma let out a small chuckle and took a deep breath.

"I know. And I know things are so different this time." Emma said, watching him steadily.

"I want this baby." She said firmly. "I want to have a family with you, but what if that's not enough? What if I hear this heartbeat and I… I don't feel anything?" She lapsed into quiet sobs again. Killian kissed her and held her tightly once more.

"You can't control how you feel or when you feel it." He said again. "And that's okay. If we hear the heartbeat and you're not excited, or if you're scared, that doesn't make you a bad person."

Emma took another unsteady breath and shook her head, her eyes on the ground. Killian placed his hook on the bottom of her chin and gently tilted her head up. She looked once more into his eyes.

"Emma Swan, you are a beautiful, loving, passionate woman. And you are an amazing mother." He placed a tender kiss on her lips. For the first time that day, Emma smiled.

There came a soft knock on the door. The technician peeked her head in. "How are we doing in here?"

Killian and Emma assured her that all was well, Emma wiped her eyes, the technician applied more gel and turned the monitor back on. Emma squeezed Killian's hand tightly but kept her eyes on the screen. He placed a gentle kiss on her hand as the technician began to point out the different grey areas on the screen. She clicked a button and the picture zoomed in.

"And there's your baby."

Emma stared. She had never seen the actual image before. Amidst the gray fuzz was a large black dot. On the side of that black dot sat a small, almost human-shaped figure."

"That's the baby?" Emma was shaking slightly as the woman nodded.

"Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?"

Emma nodded vigorously, giving Killian's hand another squeeze.

The technician flipped a switch. At once, a thrumming, pulsating noise issued from the monitor. Emma gasped. Though she had heard that sound before, it had never been like this.

"Emma love, are you alright?" Killian asked.

Emma nodded, laughing as tears of relief fell down her face and joy overwhelmed her. She turned to Killian and kissed him again. "That's our baby." She said. Killian beamed down at her and kissed her again, resting his forehead against hers.

Now, sitting outside the hospital again, Emma took a deep breath. Her ever growing belly made the bug feel even smaller than usual.

"Emma? Are you alright?" Killian asked again.

She turned to him and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little nervous."

"I know." He said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. "Take your time."

Emma counted five more deep breaths before she nodded and opened her door. She grabbed her bag from the backseat and took Killian's outstretched hand.

In the waiting room, Emma reached into her bag and brought out her crochet hook. The soft pastel yarn felt soothing in her hands. Over the last month, her fingers had become more accustomed to the action of looping and pulling the yarn. By this point, she didn't even need to think about it anymore. Emma chucked to herself. _Muscle memory,_ she thought. The blanket itself was almost done. It was now so large that it comfortably covered her belly and hung lightly on either side of her. There was something about seeing the growing blanket on top of the growing baby that brought her a different kind of peace.

The nurse called them back and Emma quickly stuffed the blanket back into the bag. Killian relieved her of it as she stepped on scales and answered questions and went through the rigmarole that began every doctor appointment. At last, the technician spread the blue gel on her round belly and brought out the transducer. Emma smiled when she heard the heartbeat.

"Did you want to find out the sex of the baby?" The technician asked.

Emma turned to Killian, who smiled brightly at her. She turned back to the technician and nodded.

The technician smiled and moved the transducer back and forth. Then she stopped and pointed to baby on the screen.

"Congratulations." She said, "It's a girl."


	4. The Third Trimester

**7 months**

Emma had no desire to visit a baby store and pushed that excursion off as long as she could but now that she had entered the third trimester of her pregnancy, time was running out. Emma and Killian hopped in the bug and headed out of Storybrooke to the BabyLand store in the next town over.

There was an annoyingly chipper sales woman who pounced on them the second they walked through the door.

"Good Morning! Welcome to BabyLand! Anything I can help you find?" Emma flinched at the woman's tone and scowled.

Killian glanced at her before he said, "No, thank you. We're just looking."

"Okay!" She said brightly, "Well, let me know if you need anything. We're having a sale on Graco strollers and at 1pm we're going to have a tutorial on proper car seat set up-"

"Yes, thank you." Killian cut her off in the hopes that she'd leave them alone. The sales woman seemed to finally get the message because she bounced away, ready to pounce on some other unexpecting expectant couple.

Emma's hands were fidgeting. She had left her crochet hook at home. Killian reached out and wrapped his hand around hers. She tried to smile.

They slowly began to look around. Killian had been in this world long enough, and had been around baby Neal long enough, to recognize the majority of what was before him. Even so, the store was so massive that the farther and farther they walked into it, the more overwhelming it all became. Killian had no idea what a boppy was and couldn't begin to figure out what part of the baby was supposed to lie on it. Past the seemingly endless rows of toys and tiny clothes came an intimidating looking aisle filled with every type of childproofing contraption ever created. Killian let go of Emma's hand and picked up one of the many white plastic devices.

"What in the world is this for?" He asked, holding it out to Emma.

Emma shook her head vigorously and nearly ran out the front door. The doorbell jingled merrily behind her.

Killian found her a few minutes later sitting on a bench in a small park that stood beside the store. She was looking down at her belly and wiping the tears from her eyes. He felt a rush of love at the very sight of her. She was swollen and looked miserable and yet she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He approached her slowly and sat down beside her. Emma did not move away from him. He took that as a good sign. They were quiet at first. Emma held her arms close to her body and did not turn to face him. Killian sat. He waited.

Finally, she spoke. "I don't ever want to go in there again."

"Okay." Killian said gently, "Why not?"

Emma was quiet for a few more seconds. "I just... can't."

Killian simply watched her, waiting. "It's… Pumps and car seats and weird plastic baby proofing things and... I don't know about any of this. It's not like they had trips to BabyLand in prison." Emma sighed. "It's a lot to figure out."

"I know, love." Killian reached out and took her hand. Her arms relaxed and she stroked his hand with her thumb. He brushed away a tear with the round end of his hook. "You don't have to figure this out on your own. We can do it out together."

"I'm not going back in there." Emma said defiantly. She looked so obstinate that Killian fought back a laugh.

"Then we won't." he said.

Emma looked up at him in surprise. Killian chuckled. He couldn't help it. "I don't particularly fancy going back in that store either. But maybe we don't have to. What about Snow?"

"My mom?" Emma asked. Killian nodded.

"Didn't she have to deal with all this before Neal was born? I'm sure by now she knows about all of the gadgets babies seem to need these days. I bet she'd be happy to brave BabyLand for us."

Emma took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. Once again, Killian knew exactly what to say to her. He kissed her head and then stood up. Emma reached out her other hand and held on to his hook for additional leverage. Once she was standing, Emma placed a loving hand on his cheek and kissed him. Killian smiled at her.

"Thank you." She said quietly, her lips hovering near his.

"Always." He said.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Snow White showed up the next morning with half a dozen plastic bags full of every possible thing a baby could ever need. David was not far behind, carrying large boxes full of pre-assembled furniture and baby gear. Emma looked slightly panicked at the sight but recovered quickly.

They took it slow. The bags were all set in closet of the baby's room. The boxes stayed downstairs in the living room. Emma and her mother took their time sorting the different types of baby clothes and toys. David and Killian assembled the furniture downstairs before moving it into the baby room. Snow showed Emma how to use a diaper genie, how to swaddle an infant, and Killian finally learned exactly what a boppy was for.

When her parents left that afternoon, Emma smiled around the newly assembled baby room. She looked from the dresser now filled with clothes and diapers to the rocking chair in the corner next to the the crib Marco had insisted on constructing for her. Emma reached up at touched one of the crystal unicorns hanging from the mobile that her mother had given her. Then she reached into her crochet bag and lifted out the soft yellow blanket, taking a moment to admire the stitches, noticing all of the imperfections; the little bumps in the pattern and the slightly uneven bottom edge. She folded it delicately and laid it in the crib. Then she ran her hand along the length of the crib before sitting down in the rocking chair. As she slowly swayed back and forth she folded her hands on top of her belly and closed her eyes. From deep within her came a ripple of movement and a tiny foot kicked against her hand. Emma laughed.

 **8 months**

"What about 'Jennifer'" Killian asked, looking up from "10,001 Baby Names."

Emma shook her head. The two of them were lying together in bed. She had her head on his chest and her ever growing belly was leaning against his hip. His hook and brace were lying on the side table and his left arm was around her shoulders. His right hand was propped in front of him, scanning the pages of the book.

"Annabelle?" Killian suggested, flipping to another page with his thumb as he held the book with the rest of his hand. Even now, Emma was amazed by his dexterity. She supposed over two hundred years of only using one hand would do that to someone.

"No." Emma sighed.

During quiet moments over the past few weeks, usually at the end of the day, Killian would pull out the book and Emma would curl up next to him. Together they would go through names. By this point they had discussed dozens, if not hundreds of names. Nothing worked. Nothing felt right. They were both frighteningly aware that they were running out of time. Very soon now there would be a baby. And the baby would need a name.

Objectively, Emma knew that they didn't need a name before the baby was born. Baby Neal survived his first week in the world without a name. Robin's daughter Rose was known as "baby Hood" for nearly a month after she was born. Still, with each flutter of movement, each little kick, Emma was starting to feel more and more ready to meet her daughter and when she did, she wanted her to have a name. And, though she hadn't shared this reason with anyone else, Emma wanted to embroider that name on the little yellow blanket that was still folded in the crib upstairs, just as Granny had embroidered her name all those years ago.

"Elizabeth?" Killian asked, pulling Emma back to herself.

Emma shook her head. Killian sighed.

"I'm sorry, I know this is frustrating," Emma said, "but nothing feels right." Killian shifted so that Emma was looking up at him. He smiled at her.

"There's nothing to apologize for, love. A child's name is important. It's not something to be taken lightly." Emma smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "Perhaps we should give it a rest for this evening, however." He added, setting the book down on the side table next to his hook.

As the weeks stretched by, Emma found herself alternately elated at the prospect of finally meeting her daughter and fear that something would go wrong. Things in Storybrooke had been too quiet for too long. Thankfully, crocheting still seemed to take her mind off of things. After she finished the blanket, she made two hats, a pair of moderately acceptable baby booties and a scarf.

If she thought she might find solace in sleep, she could not have been more wrong. It was becoming difficult for Emma to sleep more that a few hours at a time. When she did sleep, her dreams were filled with bizarre shapes and strange sounds. Sometimes she would wake up in the dark, reaching for Killian, certain he was really still trapped in the Underworld. Though it had been nearly a year since her nightmares had finally stopped, lately it seemed her dreams were drudging up old fears and painting them in more vibrant and realistic hues than ever before.

And then one night. This dream started as many others did; a swirl of color, a cacophony of voices. Moments later, or so it seemed, the colors resolved and Emma saw herself; big round belly, golden hair damp, shackled to the hospital bed.

Emma floated above the scene, a separate entity, yet she felt a stirring in her own belly as she watched the baby that was Henry make his way into the world. She saw her younger self turn away from him, "No. I can't be a mom."As Emma watched the scene below, she felt the pain as if she were her younger self once again. She knew the sorrow, she knew the grief, and yet she was not pierced by it.

Older Emma regarded younger Emma for what she was; a scared girl who was doing the best she could. Emma felt a surge of love and compassion for her younger self. She wanted to wrap the girl in a tight embrace and assure her that it would all be okay. That she would be okay. That one day she would have a family. One day she would know love.

Emma Swan opened her eyes and felt a strange sense of calm. It was just before dawn. Birds were twittering, the sky outside her window was light blue and in the distance she could hear the sounds of her sleepy hometown starting to rise. There, in the semi-darkness, it came to her. Sitting up in bed, listening to Killian's slow deep breathing, Emma rubbed a hand over her belly and smiled with her newfound knowledge. At last. Her daughter had a name. She thought fleetingly of waking Killian, but decided against it. He would know in time. For now, she wanted this moment.

Emma quietly got out of bed and padded down to the baby's room. She gathered up the yellow blanket and the crochet bag and brought them back into bed with her. She spread the blanket out on her lap and pulled the large needle and pink yarn out of her crochet bag. Slowly, carefully, she began to stitch the letter "S."

 **9 months**

Emma was done. With all of it. She was done with the heartburn and the aching back and tired feet and the weeping for no reason and the next person who touched her stomach without asking or had the nerve to ask "when are you due" one more time was going to get their ass handed to them. Her body no longer felt like her own. It had been taken over by the large, living, constantly moving being within her belly.

The days stretched on forever and the nights were unbearable. No amount of pillows, cushions or backrubs alleviated the pressure she felt everywhere. Everything was swollen, not just her belly. Her feet had grown three sizes. Or at least, she thought they had. In all honestly, she hadn't seen her feet for weeks. By this point she just assumed they were large and boat-like, just like everywhere else.

"Morning, love." Killian said sleepily, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"You snore." Emma replied shortly.

Killian barely opened his eyes and moved closer to her, his arms encircling her. Emma moved away from him, out of his reach. At this, Killian opened his eyes again.

"Everything alright, Emma?" He asked, concern in his voice and in his bleary eyes.

"I'm fine." Emma huffed, shifting positions again. "I didn't sleep at all. The baby kicked me all night long and the few times I did manage to fall asleep, I was jolted awake by your snoring. But yeah. Other than that. Grand."

Killian reached for her again, the lines on his face deepening with worry. This just annoyed Emma even more. She moved to the edge of the bed and attempted to sit up. It took a few attempts.

"Do you want-" Killian began.

"Don't touch me." Emma snapped. She successfully sat up on her fourth try, waddled to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Her once graceful form shimmied awkwardly out of her shirt and shorts and pulled aside the shower curtain. All her frustration and anger melted away under the warm water. When only her exhaustion remained, she leaned her head against the shower wall, regretting the way she snapped at Killian. It wasn't his fault that she was so miserable. Well, he played a part in her current condition, that was true, but he only ever meant well.

After she turned the water off, Emma listened for sounds of him in the adjacent bedroom, but the house was quiet. She dried off and slipped into comfortable clothes, wrapping her long blond hair in a towel.

Killian was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and humming quietly to himself. He stopped when he heard Emma walk into the room. He glanced up at her furtively and looked away quickly. Every move he made suggested caution, uncertainty. Emma hated seeing him behave that way, because of her.

Emma walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, or she tried to. She was impeded by her overgrown belly. Her hands lay on his hips and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his back.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly, as tears began to fall.

Killian set down the spatula he was holding and spun around lightly, once again trying to wrap his arms around his wife. This time she let him.

"Oh love, you have nothing to be sorry for." Killian said softly, wiping the tears off of her cheek.

"I know you were just trying to help." Emma said tearfully, angling her body sideways so that she was hugging him without her belly between them. Killian tilted her face upward and kissed her lips.

"You are pregnant, love." he reminded her, "you have every right to be short with me."

"Why are you so good to me?" Emma asked as tears began to fall more rapidly.

Killian kissed her again. "Because I love you." he said simply.

Killian wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I love you too." Emma said quietly, her eyes closing. Emma was so tired that she started to doze right there, standing in the kitchen with her love's arms wrapped around her. Her head drooped against his chest and her arms started to fall before she jerked awake again.

"Come, love. Let's go back to bed."

Emma didn't argue. She took Killian's hand and let him lead her back upstairs. This time, when she laid down, Killian rubbed soft circles on her back until, at last, Emma slept.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Emma didn't really notice them at first. The slight fluttering cramps came and went as she watched Henry's soccer game.

At a week past her due date, she usually watched for any possible sign of something that might indicate labor. She'd had her hospital bag packed for three weeks now. Her parents were on the alert for a phone call any day and her dad gave her the keys to his truck, assuring her that he would be fine with the cruiser for the foreseeable future. Emma had her heart set on taking her bug, but Killian couldn't drive stick one handed and Emma could no longer fit behind the steering wheel. Killian had learned the particulars of driving the truck over the last few months, under David's helpful instructions and quippy remarks.

It was only when Henry scored his first goal of the season, and Emma lept to her feet in celebration (with the help of Killian's arm) that she noticed that tell tale cramp in her lower abdomen. She stopped cheering and looked down, focusing on the sensation.

Killian noticed immediately and his hand was on her arm in a second. "What's wrong?" Emma noticed the low level of panic in his voice and felt a rush of love for him.

"It's fine." Emma replied as the feeling passed, "I think it's just a contraction."

"A contraction? That means it's starting, right? We need to get to you to the hospital." His voice was pitched slightly higher than usual. Emma chose not to point it out, though she couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Killian, relax. I don't need to go to the hospital yet. Mom said this would happen. So did all the books. We just have to wait-" Emma stopped as another contraction hit, this one noticeably stronger than the last. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the sensation started to fade once more. When she opened her eyes, she saw Killian's face inches from her own. The concern on his face caused a slight flutter of panic in her heart. She did her best to set that aside.

"Maybe I should go walk for a bit."

"Walk? Okay. Yes, of course." Killian gripped her hand more tightly than was necessary and led her down the bleachers. At once, David and Snow stood up from their seats further up the bleachers. Emma waved them off. David still looked concerned, but Snow nodded and placed a hand on his arm. The two of them sat back down. Emma and Killian began walking slowly back and forth across the stretch of grass behind the bleechers.

Killian didn't take his eyes off of her. He was watching he so intently that she found it distracting.

"Killian, I'm fine. Really. I'm not going to have the baby right here on the lawn. It's going to be a while."

Emma heard cheering again but didn't know what was happening. She was hit with another contraction and this one was so strong that she lost sense of her surroundings for a minute. She closed her eyes and leaned her body on a nearby railing. When that one passed, she looked at her phone- four minutes had passed between contractions. Just as it had for the last dozen or so.

"Is the bag in the car?" Emma asked, standing up again, with Killian's help. He nodded, concern still evident in his face.

"Good. Because we're going to the hospital."

"We are?" Oh, so was definitely going to tease him about the high pitch in his voice later.

"Yes, we are." Emma took his hand and the two of them walked to the car. They had to stop twice and wait for a contraction to pass. Once Killian helped her into the passenger seat, Emma shot a quick text to her mom telling her what was going on and asking her to take Henry home after the game.


	5. May 3rd, 2016

May 3rd 2016

The day faded into night and the contractions just kept coming, building in intensity and frequency yet each time Dr. Whale told her how far along she really was, Emma was sure he had to be lying. There was no way she was still only at three centimeters after twelve hours of unending labor.

And through it all, there was Killian. He stood beside her and passed her ice chips and whispered words of love in her ear. Emma gripped Killian's hand each time a contraction hit and listened to the sound of his voice when she closed her eyes. The contractions became so intense she lost track of everything around her. She knew nothing but what was happening within; the pain that overtook her entire body. Yet each time she resurfaced, each time she became aware of her surroundings again, there was Killian.

At long last, just before the sun had risen again, the nurse said, "Okay, Emma. You're fully dilated. It's time to push." Emma nodded and shifted positions. She sat at the very edge of the bed, leaned forward and gripped a bar ahead of her for support. She felt Killian's hand on her back. Heard his constant words of love and support in her ear.

Minutes became hours and still she pushed. Each effort draining what little she had left to give. Her hair stuck to her face, her arms began to shake. Emma had never felt more utterly exhausted than she did in that moment.

"Okay Emma, keep pushing. You're doing great," said Dr. Whale

"No." Emma said quietly, tears falling down her face as she laid back on the bed, resting her shaking limbs.

"What?" Killian asked.

"No, I can't. I can't do it." Emma said quietly. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Yes, you can." Killian said at once.

"No."

"Emma, look at me." He said gently, placing his hand on her cheek. Emma kept shaking her head.

"Emma, my love. Look at me." She opened her eyes and saw his face inches from hers.

"I can't do this. I…" She sobbed quietly.

Killian brushed her sodden hair out of her face. "I know you're tired. I know, love. But you are doing so beautifully and you are so close. Just one more push. Can you give one more push?"

Slowly she stopped shaking her head. Emma stared into Killian's eye. And then she took a deep breath and nodded. He kissed her forehead and gripped her hand tightly. She leaned forward and pushed again.

"Almost there, Emma. I can see her head." Dr. Whale said.

"Just one more push, Emma," Killian said, "Just one more."

He repeated the mantra for the next six pushes. At long last, Emma felt a release. A pressure lifted.

"Great job, Emma! Her head is out. One final push! That's it!" said Dr. Whale.

Killian kissed the top of her head. Every last bit of strength she had went into that one final push. At last, Emma felt a rush, an enormous relief, and laid back against the bed as the sweet sound of her daughter's cries filled the room.

Emma sobbed as Dr. Whale handed her a squirming, pink, perfect someone. Emma held her daughter to her chest and sobbed.

Killian kissed Emma's cheeks, the top of her hair, stroked his daughter's head and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"You did beautifully, my love. Beautifully," he said.

A few minutes later, one of the nurses handed Killian a pair of scissors.

"Would you like to do the honors, dad?" she asked.

Emma watched Killian's face transform in that moment. Nodding, almost dazed, he bent down and cut the cord where the nurse had shown him. Then he handed back the scissors and turned his attention to Emma. He bent down and kissed her lips. He held his forehead beside hers for another moment before turning his attention once more to his daughter.

"Hello, love," he said gently, rubbing his hand on her back, brushing the soft, fine hair on her head. "Hello, Sophie."

Dr. Whale took Sophie to the scale in the corner. He began to list off numbers Emma did not know as the nurse typed away at the computer. Emma felt a flutter of panic in her heart.

"Killian," she said, beckoning toward her daughter. He understood at once and joined the group around the table.

"Is she okay?" Emma asked, tears falling again.

"Yes, love," he said at once, his eyes on his daughter, "she's perfect."

Sophie was crying. The sound tore through Emma's heart. She wanted nothing more than to hold her. Dr. Whale was standing in front of the scale, blocking the infant from view "Ten fingers and ten toes?" Emma asked, the panic evident in her voice.

"Yes." Killian replied. Dr. Whale looked around and realized that he was standing in front of the table. He moved to the side at once. There was her daughter, squirming and crying and beautiful. Once Dr. Whale was done with his examination, he picked Sophie up and placed her carefully in Killian's arms. Killian's face shone with a radiance the likes of which Emma had never seen before. He handed Sophie to Emma. Sophie stopped crying as she laid in her mother's arms. Emma kissed the tiny girl's cheeks and fingers and toes. She shifted over as much as she could and Killian laid down on the bed beside her. Emma draped her legs over Killian's. He kissed her cheek and laid his head on the pillow beside her, his hand on Sophie's back.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Later, after they had been visited by her Mom, Dad, Regina, Henry (who left behind his storybook) Granny, and Belle, Killian sat with Sophie in a rocking chair beside Emma's bed. Emma's eyes were half open and she yawned wide.

"She still needs a middle name." Emma said, watching Killian rock Sophie in his arm.

Killian looked at Emma and smiled in a way she knew well. "What?" She asked.

"I... have a thought." he said slowly.

"Yeah?"

Killian paused and glanced at the storybook lying on the table beside them. Then he said, in an embarrassed sort of way, "Leia."

Emma laughed and her eyes also fell to the storybook. She reached out a hand and touched the soft leather cover.

"Sophie Leia Jones," Emma said with another smile. "That has a nice ring to it."

"And it's a family name." Killian said.

"It is?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking," Killian said, nodding toward the book.

Emma laughed. "I can't wait to explain to our daughter how we accidentally went back in time and danced and fell in love at a ball celebrating my father's engagement to another woman."

Killian's face went blank for a moment, and then broke into a teasing smirk.

"What?" Emma asked.

"So you were falling in love with me, back then?"

Emma blushed. "Well, yeah, but I didn't realize it at the time."

"Of course not." Killian replied in mock sincerity, that same smirk on his face.

Emma gazed from Henry's storybook to Killian and Sophie. In all her life, she didn't know it was possible to love someone as much as she loved her family.

"It is a good story." Emma sighed contentedly.

"Aye, that it is, love. But it's more than a story. It's our history. It's important that our daughter knows where she comes from." Killian said, winking up at Emma. He turned his attention once more to his sleeping daughter. "Once upon a time," he said quietly, "there was a dashing rapscallion, and he loved a princess very, very much."


End file.
